The job of the simple ramen shop is not as simple as it may first appear. Unless you're a truck driver, and the ramen shop is enroute, then it should be your local, an easy breeze in, konichi wa kind of place. There is no doubt that Ryo's is busy. We spent more time in the queue and then loitering inside than we did at the table.  Outside, waiting on the pavement in the gritty rush-past of Falcon Street, standing under the "125 B, Beware of Vehicles" sign, a fine industrial relic of the adjacent property,  we estimated it would take us 30 minutes to get a table. In the end we spend 45 minutes waiting and 20 minutes at our table eating, a ratio which is not optimal, even for a noodle bar. Why the queue?   My theory is that people see the queue and think they are onto something worth queuing for, so the queue becomes a self-replicating phenomena. The ramen, nice big bowls like all the other ramen places I've ever been, is OK. I had Tokyo ramen, and gyoza, which were hot with those nice scorch marks on them, if a little haphazard, rustic one might say.  The pork is tender, and fresh,  but somehow the soup feels a little flat - perhaps it's the build-up? The decor inside is basically yellow, like you've woken up in an egg yolk. Time has made the paper menu items on the walls less than fresh.  I think I probably expect too much from a ramen bar. Blame it on Tampopo.